Thursday's Flight - This Time

In the midst of this time
We'll write the notes, make the rhyme
No sense in people gathering too close
Never knowing quite where
Stores laid bare, not a square to spare
Do we still brag we're the ones with the most
Beyond the modern pale
Do we now see our grasp is frail
Or in our fog of fear do we still boast

Turn again, through, and through
We have to know the time's past due
We'll now pay for each and every sin
This rock is hot, getter hotter
Read police or Rorschach blotter
How and when do we clear the red tide din

People dying, the man keeps lying
What's it gonna be
People dying, the man keeps lying
C'mon with me

People dying, the man keeps lying
What's it gonna be
People dying, the man keeps lying
C'mon with me

People dying, the man keeps lying
What's it gonna be
People dying, the man keeps lying
C'mon with me

People dying, the man keeps lying
What's it gonna be
People dying, the man keeps lying
C'mon with me

Written by:
Garrison Locke, Greg McGee, Hugh Willard, Patrick Lucey

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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